


Famulus Ascending

by TheFParisCat



Category: Jupiter Ascending (2015)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2019-02-13 16:38:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12988116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFParisCat/pseuds/TheFParisCat
Summary: In the aftermath of Jupiter Jones, the Abrasaxes are trying to move on. Famulus, chief advisor to Titus, has always been in control of her emotions and Titus's estate. But in the wake of Balem's death, he's treating her differently. And she is starting to feel differently towards him. But what can happen between them when splices and Entitleds are never supposed to be together?





	1. Good Morning, Lord Titus

Famulus  


"Miss Famulus? There is a problem." Mary, a petite mouse splice, skittered up to Famulus with a jumpy look on her face. 

"What's wrong?" 

"Mr. Titus—" 

" _Lord_ Titus," Famulus reminded Mary. Mary had just started working there a few weeks ago, but she needed to learn the appropriate ways to refer to Entitleds if she wanted to remain employed. And alive, for that matter. 

"Yes. _Lord_ Titus won't wake up. I've tried 3 times, but he keeps—," she fumbled a bit, her eyes glistening, "he keeps yelling at me to get out. And I don't know what to do."

Famulus put her hand on Mary's shoulder. "I'll handle it. Now go get some chocolate truffles and bring them to Lord Titus's room. Make sure to leave the tray on the left table by his bed." Famulus gave her an encouraging smile. Mary nodded tearily and practically bolted down the hall.

With no one around, Famulus let out an exasperated sigh and rolled her eyes as she walked to Titus's bedchamber. She reached in her bag and pulled out some Sloina, a drug that erased the effects of hangovers. 

As she reached the door to Lord Titus's bedroom, she smiled at Thog, Titus's newly appointed head bodyguard, and enormous bear-splice. He nodded to Famulus respectfully while attempting to grasp at the doorknob with his gigantic paws. Finally, he succeeded, opening the door as quietly as possible. She slipped in silently.

Titus's bedroom was about as extravagant as could be expected. White marble floors and walls gleamed in areas that weren't covered by ornate rugs. The wall of windows opposite the door were covered with rich red curtains. The circular bed was on the same wall as the windows with sheets, blanket, and pillows all the exact same shade of red as the curtains. To the right of the bed was a liquor rack filled with Titus's favorite alcohols. To the left of the bed were locked bookshelves (maroon, of course) filled with books that Famulus had never been able to discern. The glass enclosing the bookshelves were opaque, hiding the titles. She'd never understood why Titus wanted to hide something like books, but she didn't ask. 

Famulus worked methodically. She started by playing Titus's favorite song on the record player by the door. Then she went by Titus's bed and opened the curtains.

The form under the mess of covers stirred slightly. A head (thankfully, just one) popped up. Titus squinted sharply at the light change and immediately submerged himself under the blankets again. "Oh, planets, no! Go away!" He moaned. 

Famulus rolled her eyes and ignored him. "Good Morning, Lord Titus," she said cheerfully. " Would you like your Sloina pill now, my lord?" 

A hand shot out from the bundle. Famulus gently placed the pill in the hand before it disappeared again. 

Famulus heard a muffled sigh of contentment from under the blankets and grabbed a RegeneX shot out of her purse. Titus always used a bit every day. 

When Titus finally heaved himself out of bed, he walked past her to his bathroom without a glance. Famulus frowned, confused. Titus always had his RegeneX shot first thing in the morning. Or whenever he woke up.

"Lord Titus, would you like your RegeneX later?"

He turned to her, his eyes lost. "What? Oh. Yes. The RegeneX. Right." He lumbered back over to her slowly. She inserted the needle in his arm, avoiding his gaze. He'd never acted like this before. So...out of focus. 

"Lord Titus," she ventured, looking up at him, "are you, perhaps, unwell? You seem quite unlike yourself."

He shook his head. "No, I'll be all right. Thanks anyway, Famulus."

As he turned and walked away, Famulus stared at him, perplexed. Titus rarely thanked anyone. No Entitleds were taught common decency when it came to non-Entitleds. In fact, she couldn't remember Titus thanking anyone who he wasn’t trying to swindle, ever. But he had just thanked her. Why?

Perhaps it had to do with Balem's death. Titus had been decidedly more...pensive, since he'd heard the news. 

Mary entered Titus's room cautiously, eyes large as suns. She quickly placed the truffle platter on the table by Titus's bed and bolted towards the door. 

Famulus called out to her, "Mary, wait." Mary did stop, albeit reluctantly. She sadly turned around and walked towards Famulus, her tail dragging behind her.

"Yes, Miss Famulus?" 

"Please send a message to Aegis headquarters. Tell them that the fee for last month's...incident will be sent by next week." 

Mary brightened immediately, probably due to her new assignment not requiring being near Titus. She nearly skipped out of the room, her tail now perky.

Famulus smiled after her and shook her head. She couldn't blame Mary for her attitude toward Titus. He could be utterly infuriating when dealing with others sometimes. Take this past encounter with Lady Jones. 

Famulus had **_not_** approved of how Titus had chosen to handle that situation. He'd almost always left the diplomatic maneuvering to her. And the moment he didn't, disaster struck. What a surprise.

 

Fortunately, Famulus had managed to convince the Aegis that all attempts to kill Lady Jones could not be proven. That Lord Titus's worst crimes were the attempted murder of the escort and the attempted coercion of Lady Jones into marriage. And that those three problems could easily be overlooked by a few canisters of RegeneX to the heads of the Aegis. The Aegis had agreed upon ten canisters. 

Famulus sighed impatiently. Titus was taking an unusually long time to finish getting ready. Balem's funeral was that afternoon, and it would be unbecoming to be late. She'd rather not have to try and smooth over the damage from yet another Abrasax family dispute, especially since the result of the last one had been...unsavory. 

When he finally exited the bathroom with a red towel around his waist, his eyes were still dazed. He disappeared inside his closet and tossed his towel outside. 

"What's on the schedule today, Famulus?" Titus asked her from the closet.

She frowned. Had Titus really not remembered? "My lord, Lord Balem's funeral is this afternoon."

There was a long moment of silence. "What time?"

"In about three hours, my lord."

Titus exited the closet wearing black pants, a shimmery, dark grey turtleneck and a black trench coat. 

"I seem to recall my brother liking his living environment as cold as possible. I doubt Chicanery will change any temperature settings for us." He looked at her dress with concern. "You should wear something warmer. It wouldn't do for you to freeze."

Famulus's ears perked up in surprise. "I'm going?"

At last, his eyes brightened a bit and he smiled at her. "Of course you are," he said as he placed a hand on her shoulder. "Now go get changed and meet me at the ship."

She curtsied and left the room. She stopped at the bedroom entrance and addressed Thog. "I'll be accompanying Lord Titus to the funeral." Thog nodded.

As she walked to her room, Famulus thought back to the many funerals she'd heard about. People from her farm who'd died thousands of years ago. 

Of course, she hadn't taken time off to go to them. That just wasn't done. And it wasn't expected of her. No advisors left their work unless the Entitleds said they could. And it wasn't proper to ask. 

As such, although she'd been around for over 7000 years, the only funerals she'd been to were for Titus's servants and other staff who died. And Lady Seraphi Abrasax, of course. 

Still, it had been quite some time since then. She wondered what this one would be like.

 


	2. Brown Over Black

Famulus

Famulus stared at her closet. She didn't own much black. In fact, she only had one black outfit. Everything else was a sea of brown.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When she'd first arrived on Titus's planet as a wide-eyed twenty-year-old, she'd nearly had a nervous breakdown. She'd spent her entire life preparing to work for Titus. Her raisers had been very instructive. _Always be respectful. Never question Lord Titus's authority. Only refer to him as "Lord Titus" or "My Lord."_

As the entrance doors slammed into place behind her and she looked down the giant main hall, her heart sank. She had no idea where to go. 

A giant reptilian thing walked by at that moment, its tail slithering lazily behind him.

"Excuse me," she said. The thing took no notice. "EXCUSE ME!" she yelled, and the thing turned around and glared at her. She coughed nervously, then continued, "I'm here to be an advisor for Lord Titus. I've just arrived and I have no idea where he is. Would you mind taking me to him? Or if you can't, would you show me to someone who can?" 

The thing's glare disappeared. It simply declared, "follow me," as it turned around and started down the hall. "Try to keep up," it declared haughtily. Famulus tamped down her irritation and followed the thing.

"Thank you. What's your name?"

"Theeran. Yours?"

"Famulus."

As she had moved through the halls of Titus's gleaming palace for the first time, her heart had nearly burst out of her chest. Her jean jumper had started sticking to her legs from how much she was sweating. She'd been terrified of the image of Titus she had in her head. 

Theeran was moving at a much faster rate than Famulus and frequently stopped, waiting for her and tapping his tail impatiently. Finally, Famulus was practically sprinting to prevent him from stopping constantly. Fortunately, her deer DNA helped her stamina and kept her going. 

At long last, they reached one of Titus's lounge areas. Theeran smacked the door open (lizard hybrids were _not_ known for their grace) and entered the lounge, Famulus dashing in behind him. 

She saw not one, but two Entitleds in front of her. One was pale with freckles. The other was tan with no freckles. They both wore flashy, expensive clothing, which had been Famulus's clue of their status. They had both turned in surprise at the intrusion of their privacy. 

"Lord Titus," Theeran began. 

The tan one frowned at him, irritated. "What?" He asked incredulously, brows furrowed.

"This splice is your new advisor. Her name is Famulus." Theeran stepped aside. Famulus suddenly became keenly aware of her appearance as the two men stared at her. She subconsciously pushed back some of her hair that had been cascading down her shoulders. Had she been of a lighter complexion, she would have blushed.

The tan one—Titus—looked her up and down incredulously. He turned to the paler one and said, "What's this, Balem? A little splice you've sent to spy on me?"

"It's a gift from mother, actually," the pale one—Balem, Titus called him—said, his voice barely above a whisper. Balem was very calm. In fact, he seemed to be enjoying himself. Had she seen a slight smirk on his face?

Titus looked confused. "Why in the verse would she—"

"Because she's taking an interest in your business practices." Balem interrupted him impatiently.

Titus stared at him, confused.

"Mother gave me Chicanery as a business gift. Same with Kalique and Maladictes. It's a tradition with her."

Titus looked flustered. He sighed and regained his composure. "Well, that's all well and good, Balem, but I don't _need_ an advisor."

Balem rolled his eyes. "Really, Titus? You're quite lost when it comes to all things business. How many times has mother saved you from bankruptcy? You need all the help you can get."

Titus's face was boiling with rage. He was squeezing his fists so tightly that they were turning pale from lack of blood. 

Balem seemed to take no notice of his brother's anger. "Besides, there's nothing shameful about it. All successful Entitleds have advisors."

Titus had calmed slightly, but his fists were still clenched.

Balem began exiting the room. "I wouldn't recommend throwing out mother's gift, but that's entirely up to you. Come, Theeran."

Theeran lumbered after him. As he passed by Famulus, he winked at her reassuringly. She gave him a faltering smile in return.

The door slammed closed behind Theeran. Suddenly Famulus and Titus were alone.

She watched him intently. He was staring off into the distance, willing himself to calm down. Slowly, he unclenched his fingers and turned towards her. 

Titus strolled over to her and slowly walked around her, inspecting her closely. She stared at a painting on the far wall, trying not to move. 

Finally he stopped on front of her and stared down at her. "Look up at me," he commanded. She lifted her gaze obediently and met his eyes. His gaze seemed to soften a bit before he continued. "First, never, _ever_ wear denim again. I hate it. In fact, wear brown. Brown suits you. Second, change your hair. Pull it back or something."

He was giving her a chance. All of her life's training would not go to waste now. She straightened a bit and smiled at him. "Anything else, my lord?" She asked him sweetly.

He seemed genuinely surprised at her response. "Well, um. No. When I see you tomorrow you'll have made these changes, correct?"

She nodded happily. "Of course, my lord."

"Good." He called someone. "Felicia. There is a splice in the art lounge. Fix her." He hung up and walked out of the room. 

Soon after, a woman (Famulus had to assume it was Felicia) entered the room. She took one look at Famulus and sighed. "I don't know what I'm supposed to fix with you. You're pretty perfect already."

"I believe that he would like me to change my hair and wear brown."

Felicia frowned. "Brown? Such a drab color on one of his courtesans? Surely you must've heard incorrectly."

Famulus shook her head. "I'm not a courtesan. I'm Lord Titus's new advisor." When Felicia looked at her incredulously, she continued, "I've been sent from Lady Seraphi Abrasax."

Felicia finally seemed to believe her. "Well, miss, um, what's you name?"

"Famulus."

"Well, miss Famulus, we'd better get you "fixed" then."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day, when Famulus entered Titus's main lounge wearing a floor length tan gown with her hair pulled back into a braid, he looked approvingly at her. And she knew at that moment that she'd secured her position. 

The last time she'd worn her only black outfit was when Lady Jones was around, and she certainly didn't think it fitting to wear something that would remind Titus of her. 

No. Instead, she called Felicia. 

"Felicia? It's Famulus. Do you have a black outfit I can wear to Lord Balem's funeral?"

"Of course I do," she snapped. "Do you honestly think me so unprepared? I figured Lord Titus would want you there. I'll send it up to your room."

"Oh. All right." She hung up, confused. Why had Felicia thought that Titus would want her there? 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Famulus walked onto the ship in her new dress. It was a floor length black chiffon dress with black satin lining. 

As she sat down, Titus entered the ship, Thog thudding in behind him. Titus sat in the seat opposite Famulus without a word.

As they flew, Titus leaned forward, head in his hands, and started rubbing his temples. 

After about an hour of this action, Famulus frowned. "My lord, are you sure you're well?"

Titus sighed. "I'm trying to convince myself to smile. It's not working." He threw his body back into the chair and sighed again. "It's getting harder to lie."

"I'm sorry, my lord?"

"There was a time, a long time, when lies would _get_ me something. Money. Sex. Happiness. But there were always these, these _moments_ when lying solved nothing. When mother died. When Mr. Wise burst in at the wedding. And right now. It solves nothing. It accomplishes _nothing_. And it begs the question, "What's the _point_?" I just don't know anymore."

Famulus couldn't think of anything to say. She sat back in her seat, crossed her arms, and looked out the window, watching the stars go by in silence.


	3. A Drunk Kiss

Famulus

Famulus sighed. Lord Titus had been downing vodka as fast as possible ever since he'd gotten back from the funeral. Between shots he'd been injecting himself with RegeneX to keep from dying. She was a bit shocked at his sadness. 

Balem's funeral had taken place two days ago. It was lovely. Very black. Chicanery had spent his time glowering off to the side during most of the proceedings, as was expected. Famulus hadn't seen either Kalique or Titus cry, but neither of them—unlike their brother—were well known for their emotional outbreaks.

At the time, Famulus hadn't been sure that Titus missed Balem. There had been some weird things that morning, but she'd thought he had a fever or something. Clearly she'd been mistaken. Now she was just standing a few feet behind Titus's chair in his dining room, arms crossed, trying to stifle yawning. She was not genetically designed to be awake for 42 hours straight.

"Moka," Titus slurred.

Famulus frowned and leaned toward him. 

"I'm sorry, my lord?"

Titus swung his head towards her wildly. "More...vodka." He doubled over, nearly falling out of his chair before Famulus caught him.

Famulus sighed. She made a decision she had no place to. It was time for Lord Titus to sleep. 

"My Lord, there is more vodka in your bedroom. Thog will take you there." She gestured to Thog and he picked Titus up gingerly, cradling Titus in his furry arms. He then started walking to Titus's room slowly, trying to make his enormous steps shake Titus as little as possible. 

Titus first sloppily tried to push Thog off of him, but soon gave in, resting his head in Thog's chest. Famulus walked in front of them, looking back at Titus frequently to make sure he was comfortable.

"Famulus, what's wrong with me?" Titus wailed. 

She turned back to him, confused. "Nothing, my lord," she replied, perplexed. Before the morning of the funeral, she couldn't remember the last time Lord Titus engaged in self-reflection, and she wasn't sure why he'd started now. 

"Oh, stop lying to me. There must be _something_ wrong with me, because my family keeps leaving me." Tears fell from his puffy red eyes and down his face. 

Famulus opened to door to Titus's bedroom and held it open as Thog entered. Titus continued talking about his misfortune absentmindedly while Thog changed him into pajamas. All thoughts of alcohol had thankfully left his mind. Famulus wanted to leave and go to sleep, but Titus was looking directly at her the entire time, so she stayed in place, smiling at him politely.

His voice was dazed and his demeanor hazy. "First Mother. She never spoke to me. All she ever did was talk to Balem. Kalique and I tried to get some attention from her, but to no avail." He shuddered, a half-hearted smile coming on his face. "You know Kalique and I designed her second wedding, and all she said to us was that she didn't like the flowers we used. Balem stood right beside her when she got married and we sat in the back."

He nearly lost his balance, but Thog held him upright. "Eventually, when Kalique started running more businesses, Mother cared about her. Started talking to her. But I wasn't good at that. Board meetings and numbers make no sense to me. So she shipped me around to tutors and boarding schools for years, never once loving me. All she ever did was give me you. And then she left me."

"And now Balem's left me. He was my _brother_. I wouldn't say we even liked each other, but he's supposed to be there for me. I've been there for him. But he left me. And soon enough Kalique will leave me too."

Famulus sighed and walked over to Titus, now in his bedclothes.

"I highly doubt that Lady Kalique will leave you, my lord. She doesn't strike me as a suicidal person."

He smiled sadly. "Maybe she doesn't want to _now_ , but maybe she will. Maybe I make people want to leave me."

"You don't, my lord."

"Oh really? I bet you'll leave me too."

"No I won't, my lord."

He stared at her, slightly confused. "Really?" he said, a tinge of hope in his voice.

"No. I won't," she said matter-of-factly as she shook her head. "Unless I don't have RegeneX, of course. Then there won't be much I can do."

Titus doubled over in laughter, then stood up and held Famulus's shoulders gently. "Of course you would stay. That's why I love you."

Famulus started, struck mute. She was even more shocked when Titus kissed her, wrapping his arms around her upper back. 

He kissed her softly, sweetly, like he cared. She responded in turn, closing her eyes slowly and leaning into the kiss slightly, wrapping her arms around his waist.

After a moment, Titus pulled back, smiling. He lost his balance and fell back onto the bed, his face disappearing under the covers. 

When he reappeared, his face was red from embarrassment. He opened his mouth to say something, but seemed to be at a loss for words.

Famulus turned away from him, her face warm. She suddenly became acutely aware of Thog's presence. He had stood off to the side during their exchange, completely silent. 

She gestured to him. "Thog, sleep."

Thog nodded and sprayed some sleep gas in front of Titus. 

Titus suddenly started talking, trying to fight off the effects of the gas. "Wait, Famulus, I–" he fell silent as he passed out. 

Famulus and Thog stared at each other for a moment. 

Famulus started clasping and unclasping her hands. ”Thog, did that just happen?" 

He gave her a slow nod. 

She sighed resolutely. "Well, then. I do think we should keep this between us for now."

He nodded again. 

She frowned, then ventured forth another question. "Do you think he meant it? About being in love with me?"

He looked away for a moment contemplatively, then nodded once more. 

"Why?"

Thog slumped, obviously disappointed that he had to give a longer response.

"He..." Thog trailed off, trying to say what he thought in as few words as possible."He looks at you...differently. Like...like you're... everything." His deep, thick voice slowed on the final word. 

Famulus looked down, trying to process things. 

"Well that's certainly...a theory, Thog." She looked away from him uncertainly. "I'd best be getting to sleep. Goodnight." She turned and walked briskly out of the room, her face flushed and her mind in a jumble. _He loves me? Why? How?_

That night, she tossed and turned in her bed for a while, thoughts swimming fervently. But one question she refused to answer. _Do I...love him?_


	4. Wild Deer

Famulus

When Titus awoke the next afternoon, his head aching, he realized something was wrong. 

But what was wrong? His head hurt, but that was normal. 

His room was dark. The curtains were closed. Why were they closed? 

There was no music. And there was no Sloina pill. 

And then it finally hit him. Famulus wasn't there. 

He called her on the screen. 

"Good afternoon, Lord Titus." Famulus's smiling face met him. Something was off about it, though. Did she look nervous?

"Afternoon? Why didn't you wake me?" 

"You had nothing on your schedule, my lord. And you went to sleep at 4:00 this morning. Did I misstep?"

"What day is it?" He was holding his head, futilely willing it to stop throbbing. 

"Tuesday, my lord." Was she disappointed? Her smile wasn't right.

Wait. Balem's funeral was on Sunday.

He sat up in bed. "What happened to Monday?" 

"You consumed vodka for 26 hours straight, my lord. I would guess that your memory of yesterday is a bit blurry." 

He groaned and fell back on the bed. "26 hours? Well, that's got to be some kind of record."

"Do you need anything, my lord?" 

"A Sloina pill. Desperately."

"Thog will bring one to you momentarily. Anything else, my lord?" 

"Yes. Come here. I need to talk to you."

Her face fell again. Or did it? It was hard to tell. "Yes my lord."

Thog entered the room with Sloina pill. As Titus took it, he felt the throbbing cease. All that remained were hazy fragments of the past two days. 

Lots of pouring. And drinking. Then...hair. Arms? And lips—

Lips. Whose? Even very, _very_ drunk, Titus doubted he would kiss someone with hairy arms. So who was it?

He wracked his brain for more details. All he came up with was ears. Large ears. Who had large ears?

He went into his bathroom and sank in the tub, letting hot water seep into him. His mind drifted to Famulus, as it often did when he wanted to escape depressing things. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When that lizard thing moved aside and revealed her, Titus hadn't known what to think. 

She was far too pretty to be his advisor. In fact, why was she pretty? To spy on him?

He quickly found out that she wasn't a spy. At least not one of Balem's. She was from mother. Which meant he couldn't ditch her. At least not anytime soon.

As he walked around her after Balem left, he'd felt different than he'd ever felt before. Sweat had made her skin glisten. A mess of brown hair cascaded brown her shoulders. Her eyes were intense and soft at the same time. 

Something about her reminded him of his favorite painting mother owned. It was of a wild deer in mid-leap. 

Here was this beautiful creature from his mother. Which meant that certain boundaries could _never_ be crossed. 

So he decided to make her as un appealing as possible. He told her to pull back that gorgeous hair and wear his least favorite color— _brown_.

Somehow that hadn't helped. Well, it helped a little, but she _still_ looked amazing. And soon, he started noticing other things about her. Like her poise. Her friendliness to the other workers. How she could hold her own with Entitleds, splices, and everything in between. Her diplomacy. How she kept him from going destitute on _numerous_ occasions. How she was, at times, the only person he could rely on. In short, he was in love with her. 

Over the years, Titus had gotten so used to ignoring his feelings for her that it was easy to keep up the act that he didn't care. Besides, he was used to lying. Even to himself.

He walked out of the bathroom and was slightly surprised to see Famulus there. 

"You wanted to ask me something my lord?" She struck him as wanting to be anywhere else. Which was strange, since she'd seen him in _far_ worse ways than half-dressed. Had he said something that upset her?

"Uh, yes. Who did I sleep with last night?"

She blinked and cocked her head to the side. "No one, my lord." 

He frowned. "No one?"

She shook her head. "No one slept with you, my lord. Unless you count Thog, who was outside your room all night.

Titus shuddered. "No, I most certainly _don't_ count him." 

She smiled. He had the distinct impression she was relieved, but disappointed. Why?

"Anything else, my lord?” she ventured, voice flat.

"Yes." He felt a cloud come over him as he thought about it. "When will my brother's will be read?"

"Thursday, my lord." Famulus's gaze softened. Why was she acting like this? Was he just imagining things?

"That is all. And Famulus, I wouldn't like to be disturbed." 

"Yes, my lord." She curtsied and left the room. 

It was only after she left that it hit Titus. Famulus had large ears. In fact, they were the largest ears he'd ever seen. 

Had he—? 

No. No. That would be ridiculous. 


	5. Captain Tsing

Famulus   


Titus didn't remember. In all fairness, he remembered _nothing_ , not just the kiss, so she wasn't too disappointed. But she _was_ disappointed, and that bothered her. Why did she want him to remember when that would only make her life more complicated? It could only endanger her position. Yet...

She brushed those thoughts aside. They were useless, anyway. Unless she wanted to tell him. Which she wouldn't. Couldn't. 

Mary rescued her from her reverie, scampering up to her with a look of wild concern on her face. "Miss Famulus, there is an Aegis in the main room. She wants to talk to Mr— _Lord_ Titus. And, and, and I told her that he couldn't come because he was indisposed. But, but, but she wouldn't _leave_ and I—"

"It's all right, Mary. I'll handle it." Famulus placed her hand on Mary's tiny shoulder and gave it an encouraging squeeze. Mary, slightly less concerned now, curtsied and scampered down the hall. Famulus squared her shoulders and walked calmly towards the main room. 

She opened the doors and closed them gently behind her. A woman of dark complexion stood perfectly straight in the center of the room. Her stance was rigid and at attention as she turned to face Famulus. 

"Good afternoon, miss—"

"Captain," the woman interrupted her. "Captain Diomika Tsing." 

"Captain Tsing." Famulus extended her hand, and Captain Tsing shook it quickly and efficiently. "I am representing Lord Titus Abrasax. What seems to be the trouble?"

"The Aegis received your letter about the fee." Captain Tsing seemed to bristle slightly at the word "fee". Famulus got the impression that Tsing was not fond of Titus being able to pay off his crimes. "But it will be needed sooner."

"Sooner? Why?"

"I am not aware why. My mission was not to _ask_ , but to _receive_." Captain Tsing’s shoulders were tense.

"Of course." Famulus smiled politely, trying to put the woman at ease. If it worked, she couldn't tell. Captain Tsing was quite no-nonsense and to-the-point, a pleasant change of pace compared to the fickle Entitleds she was used to dealing with. "Ten canisters of Abrasax RegeneX. Any preferences?"

Captain Tsing looked taken aback. "Preferences?"

"Yes. What planet the RegeneX was from, what persons were har—"

"NO!" Captain Tsing shouted. Her eyes were horrified and she was practically shaking. "Just, _ten_ canisters of _whatever_."

"All right." She called the captain of Titus's clipper, told him to come to the red palace, and hung up. "It will take a few hours to bring here. In the meantime, would you like anything to drink?"

Tsing seemed shocked. "N-no. Are you _quite_ sure it can't be brought faster?"

"There is a small amount available here. Mostly drop injections. But if you want _canisters_ with little to no chance of contamination, they'll have to brought here." She noted Tsing's look of confusion and continued, "It's mostly for security purposes. Having stores of RegeneX in a single, concrete location isn't safe." She smiled. "In the meantime, you and our crew can dine here. There is a dining room in the west wing that would be perfect."

Once again, Captain Tsing appeared surprised. "Well, I appreciate the offer, but I doubt that follows protocol."

"Captain Tsing, I understand your hesitation. However, I can see nothing wrong in enjoying yourself while waiting. If you don't eat, the RegeneX will not arrive any faster."

Tsing was wavering. Finally, she said, "If we are not intruding, then I accept. However, as _soon_ as the, um, RegeneX arrives we will be on our way."

"I understand." Famulus opened the door for Captain Tsing and followed her out. She called Mary. "Mary, please tell the chef that we'll be having the Aegis crew for dinner and to have Lord Titus's food delivered to his room. And make sure the servants have cleaned dining room A in the west wing. Thank you." 

Famulus had quickly realized that the easiest way to appease individuals and get to them think fondly of Titus was with food and drink. That was why she'd decided to feed the Aegis crew. There would be few complaints or grudges. 

And she didn't have to worry about Titus's pride being wounded by eating near non-Entitleds. She had them in the west wing. Titus lived in the east wing. There was little to no possibility that he would even _see_ them. 

Famulus smiled. This was her job. Ingratiating others to Titus so they wouldn't want to kill him and keeping him from squandering his inheritance. And she was good at it. 

In fact, she was probably _too_ good at it. 

There was something else driving her to make Titus's life comfortable and secure.

Perhaps she cared far too much about Titus's well being. 

Perhaps...

A large troop of splices Famulus had never seen before marched past her. Members of Captain Tsing's crew bowed as they passed. When Famulus saw a splice with an actual elephant head bow to her, she smiled and curtsied in return. 

She hadn't seen a splice with an animal head in thousands of years. 

"Enjoy," she called to the disappearing forms. Yes. This was her place. Nothing else. And she knew that.

So why was she still feeling sad?


	6. A Surprise

Famulus

Thursday reared its ugly head. Titus still couldn't shake the depression that hung around him. Part of him felt dead. 

He'd felt something similar to this when mother died. But he hadn't seen mother as much as Balem. The thought that he'd never see Balem again kept reeling around in his head. 

That and the lost day were the only thing that occupied him. 

Truth be told, he wanted nothing less than to go hear Balem's will. But he had to. It had nothing to do with the money. He had enough. He just needed to do _something_ to try to move on.

He sat across from Famulus in the same ship that took him to the funeral. It honestly made him want to vomit. He decided to burn the ship as soon as he got back. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The splice who was about to read the will had the distinct look of a rabbit. He brushed his long, floppy ears out of his face and put on his glasses carefully, squinting at the document.

Famulus looked around. The only two Entitleds present were Kalique and Titus. Both looked a little off. Titus looked exhausted, but she had expected that. Kalique, however, almost always looked composed. But today she hadn't put on makeup and looked like she hadn't slept. She wasn’t wearing a gown either, instead sporting a fuzzy grey turtleneck and black pants.

Both of them were sitting in the front of the minuscule, stuffy room while Famulus, Chicanery and Maladictes stood in the back. 

"I trust Lord Titus is in good health?" Maladictes said to Famulus gruffly.

"Yes, Maladictes,” she replied. Titus was well. As well as could be expected with the loss.

"He looks a bit unwell. Perhaps you should look into that,” he commented, his tone smug.

Famulus gritted her teeth slightly and said nothing. Maladictes always had an heir of superiority that Famulus found off putting. She much preferred Chicanery Night, who just hated everyone and everything equally. 

"Perhaps you should mind your own business, Maladictes," Chicanery snapped. 

Maladictes glared at Night. "You'd best change your tone, Night. Once this will is read, your position is negligible," he whispered angrily.

"I wouldn't be so sure," Night said, a smile creeping over his face. 

Famulus looked at him, confused. In a few minutes, Balem’s estate would be split between Kalique and Titus, and Chicanery would have no one to advise. What on earth could he be talking about?

"This is the last will and testament of Lord Balem Abrasax of the Abrasax family," the rabbit began, peering at the document.

"Incorrect. It is not the last," a voice from behind them said. 

Famulus turned around and peered down the hall. A figure was encased in the shadows. Despite the dark clouding her vision, she could've sworn that that voice was—

"I would've come to the funeral, but that would've been in bad taste." The figure walked slowly down the hall and revealed itself.

"Lord Balem?" Famulus gasped. 

Balem waltzed past the trio without a glance and entered the room. By this point, Kalique and Titus were standing up. Kalique was beaming at Balem and her eyes were glistening. Titus had the most genuine smile Famulus had ever seen him don. It was sloppy and far too big. In other words, perfect.

When Balem finally reached them, he said, "I do hope I haven't disappointed you too much by being alive."

"Oh shut up, Balem!” Kalique snapped joyously and threw her arms around him. Balem froze. He clearly hadn't expected this response. He looked even more surprised when Kalique extended the hug and Titus joined in. 

After a moment, they both pulled back, and Balem still hadn't moved.

"What on earth was that?" Balem rasped, almost angry.

"It was a hug, silly. What, you haven't had one in so long you don't remember it?" Kalique laughed. Titus looked at Balem incredulously, receiving a disapproving frown in response. 

"Of course I know what it is. But I never gave you permission to do that. Never do it again," Balem snapped. 

Titus chuckled and shook his head. "Welcome back, brother." 


	7. Present and Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning: Attempted suicide.

Titus

Titus watched his brother from across the table pensively. After Balem's dramatic reappearance, Kalique had demanded that both he and Balem eat with her, and they had both agreed, Balem somewhat grudgingly. But Titus was used to Balem acting like a surly brat. It was almost relieving for _one_ of them to be acting normally.

He and Kalique were rather out of character. Kalique, who normally spoke with care, had been babbling on for a full hour trying to catch Balem up on what he'd missed for a month. He hadn't heard her talk this much since they were children. 

And he was...well, he didn't know _what_ he was. Happy, to be sure. But also far too pensive. He knew that somehow he couldn't go back to the way he was before. 

The frivolous, lavish lifestyle he'd led had been fun, of course. But when Balem died, Titus realized how empty he felt. Now that Balem was back, Titus how much he wanted something—or someone—to be close too. 

He wanted a person who would always be there. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Famulus

Famulus, Chicanery, and Maladictes were eating in a room off to the side, watching the siblings with interest. Famulus noticed that Maladictes looked particularly grumpy and that Chicanery looked particularly depressed. She couldn't fathom why.

Finally, she braved conversation. "So, how long did you know that Lord Balem was alive, Chicanery?"

"Since the explosion. His life pulse was still going," he glowered.

Maladictes snapped, "And the reason you chose to tell no one this?"

"Life pulses can malfunction. It would mean _nothing_ if I couldn't find him," Chicanery retorted, staring daggers at Maladictes.

"I'm sure Lord Balem appreciates your dedication," Famulus said sweetly, trying to diffuse the tension that Maladictes _always_ seemed to cause.

Chicanery looked down at his food, his back hunched over. "Somehow I doubt that."

Famulus frowned. "Why?"

"He punched me when I found him."

Famulus placed her hand on Chicanery's back, rubbing it. "I doubt that had anything to do with you."

He looked up at her. "Really? You really believe that?"

"I do," Famulus smiled.

He turned away, staring at nothing. "Why did I do it?"

"Do what?" Maladictes snapped irritably.

"Save him. I had it. One opportunity to free myself. And I didn't. Why?" Chicanery whispered.

Famulus glanced around, hoping no one else heard Night's confession. Maladictes had raised his eyebrows in shock. She whispered, "Because...you were doing your job, Chicanery. That's all."

Chicanery sighed and pushed his wispy white hair away from his face. "Maybe. Or maybe I've gotten so used to being miserable that I can't live happily."

Famulus stopped rubbing his back and placed her hand on his. "You'll be fine, Chicanery. Trust me. If you need anything, just call, okay?" 

He nodded faintly. 

She sighed, concerned. She certainly didn't want Chicanery depressed. He didn't handle it well.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She'd first met Chicanery around 4000 years ago when Seraphi had held a birthday party for Balem, which, as far as Famulus knew, she had never done for neither Titus nor Kalique. 

She found out later that Seraphi had another reason for bringing the siblings together. It had to do with reseeding some of the harvested planets. Seraphi had wanted each of them to work on it, presumably to see how well they could handle the family business later. 

Naturally, because Titus lacked certain organization skills, Famulus had done most of the behind-the-scenes work while Titus did all of the talking. Apparently, between the two of them, Seraphi saw some promise and decided to give Titus some of the smaller planets. 

During some meeting between the family members, Famulus hung around the east wing library. The library held a massive collection of books and was five stories high. Amazingly, it wasn't just stocked with historical books that no one ever read. Granted, there were some of those, but there were also novels, plays, and comic books. 

Famulus looked around in awe and then heard something above her. It was coughing and moaning. 

She quickly ran up the stairs and rushed to a man. He was lying on his stomach and she couldn't see his face. In his left arm was a knife. The arm was surrounded in a pool of blood that was rapidly expanding. 

Famulus quickly took a RegeneX shot out of her purse and inserted it in the blood-stained arm. She then rolled him over, taking care to move the knife, to assess the damage. 

The man turned out to be some sort of rodent splice. He had pale, almost translucent skin pulled tightly over his bony face. His hair was white and wispy and looked as though he pushed it back often, receding the hairline. His wrist had a deep cut and was spouting blood. 

She took a handkerchief and tied it tightly around his wrist to staunch the bleeding, then gave him four more RegeneX shots and waited. 

After about 30 seconds, the splice coughed and opened his squinty eyes. He looked around, confused, and then his eyes settled on Famulus. 

"Who are you?" He rasped.

"My name is Famulus." She smiled at him. "And you are?"

The splice attempted to push himself up with the injured arm, but winced as soon as he applied pressure. Famulus caught him and helped him sit upright. 

"I'm Chicanery Night. I take it you're an advisor?" 

"Yes I am. To Lord Titus. And what about you? What is your profession?"

He laughed half-heartedly. "I'm an advisor as well. To Lord Balem."

"You have one of the most important assignments a splice can have. You are very fortunate."

He chuckled bitterly. "You'd think that, wouldn't you? That I'm just the most fortunate splice in the entire verse. But I'm not. I'm the least fortunate. "

She looked at him worriedly and wondered what could possibly be so terrible about his position. Clearly there had to be something. 

He started to look a bit better and slowly attempted to rise. She helped him inch to his full height, holding on to his arm. She helped him ease down the stairs and out of the library in silence. Once they reached the hallway, she turned to him and spoke.

"Please remember that your position is just that, your position. Your profession and all that it entails doesn't reflect on you as a splice. And please do not commit suicide. I enjoyed talking to you and I'd like to think we'd be able to do it again someday." She released his arm and he stared at her.

"You...are quite different from what I expected anyone from Lord Titus's court to be like."

She smirked. "I suppose Lord Balem spoke of us fondly, then?"

He smiled. "Quite." He took her hand and kissed it, bowed, turned, and left.

Famulus watched him as he left with concern. She hoped that she had somehow convinced him to keep living.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She resumed rubbing his back and silently willed Maladictes to not speak.

Maladictes, for once, didn't say anything insulting. He stirred restlessly, rolled his eyes, then finally said, "Night, we've all been there. Feeling like you can't do it anymore. You'll get past it."

Famulus stared at Maladictes in shock. Where in the verse had this somewhat encouraging attitude come from?

Maladictes continued, "There are ways of coping with the pressure. Read. Take up knitting. Find _something_ to do that you actually like. You said you feel like misery is normal to you. Well make it abnormal. _Do_ something about it instead of just feeling sorry for yourself."

Chicanery sighed. "I've realized something."

Famulus stared at him. "What?"

Chicanery stared directly at Balem. "The only way that I can ever be happy is if I'm free from him."

"That's not true, Chicanery." Famulus squeezed his shoulders. "He doesn't control your emotions."

"Oh really? He has never once given me a compliment, smiled at me, made me feel like I'm worth _anything_. Nothing I do is ever good enough. I gave him back his life and he hates me for it. If you never felt remotely adequate in your life, would you be happy?"

Maladictes looked at the ground, silent. Famulus wrapped her arms around Chicanery and hugged him. 

"It'll be okay, Chic. It'll be all right," she whispered softly. As much as she wanted to believe it, she felt like she was already losing him. Unless she or Maladictes could somehow do the impossible and pull him away from Lord Balem, Chic wasn't going to make it. 


	8. Just a Dream. (Or not.)

Titus

Titus had nearly fallen when some one caught him. Then he was floating. No. He wasn't.Something big and furry was carrying him, but he couldn't see who. For some reason everything was blurry, almost like he was trying to see through water. He tried to push the big thing away for a moment, but it didn't budge. The big furry thing put him down and started stripping him, but he made no attempt to stop it. He was looking at Famulus, her face almost clear through the watery haze. He wouldn't stop talking, although he didn't know what was so important. 

Everyone would leave him. "I'll bet you'll leave me too."

"No I won't, my lord." Then she walked briskly over to him. He couldn't believe it. 

"Really?"

She shook her head. She said something that made him laugh, then he placed his hands on her shoulders.

"Of course you wouldn't. That's why I love you." 

He kissed her, his whole being coming alive in one moment of clarity. She wrapped her arms around him. They were complete. 

Then what he'd done dawned on him and he pulled away. For once, he had no idea what to say. He wanted to tell her that he'd wanted to do that from the first day he'd seen her and every day since, that seeing her smile made his life worthwhile. But he was struck dumb. 

"Thog, sleep."

Then there was blackness.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Titus started awake in the middle of the night, chest heaving as he gasped for oxygen. He was sweating and shaking. 

It wasn't like he'd never dreamed about Famulus before. But this one had felt different. Most of his dreams didn't look like they'd taken place in reality. But this one had been in his room, and he was wearing bedclothes that he actually—

Owned. Wait. He owned those clothes. And he'd awoken three days ago in those bedclothes that he _never_ chose to wear with a pounding headache and the distinct impression that Famulus was a bit nervous around him. 

So he'd kissed Famulus, declared that he was in love with her, and she'd put him to sleep. He attempted to be angry, but just couldn't access the required emotion. Instead, he felt disgusted with himself. How could he have done such a thing in bedclothes and teary-eyed?

Titus resolutely pounded his fist into the bed. If he could tell Famulus how he felt whilst _drunk_ , he could certainly tell her whilst sober. 

But he didn't want her to just be with him be because he wanted it. He'd had enough one sided relationships, and Famulus was too important. She needed to love him as much as he loved her or it wouldn't work.

Admittedly, he was a bit piqued—and confused—that Famulus hadn't told him about it, but that would be taken care of in the morning. 

Yes. In the morning. As he settled back onto the bed and pulled the blanket over himself, he found that he wanted the morning to arrive immediately. He was nearly bursting with excitement. In the morning, he was going to set out to win Famulus's heart. 


	9. Tears and Chocolate

Titus

Titus couldn't stop pacing. He'd had only few hours of restless sleep before a rising sun woke him up. The reason for his disquiet hit him: he had no idea how to go about talking to Famulus. 

Clearly he had to dress up. And speak eloquently. He'd practiced what to say to Jupiter for a solid 2 days before she arrived to make sure it was perfect. But in that instance the objective—and outcome—was clear and easily attainable. 

But this situation was a far more delicate matter. It had to be handled correctly. But he had no clue where to begin. Unfortunately, his mother had taught him nothing about emotional matters, although Titus supposed that wasn't entirely her fault. Entitleds tended to speak in passive-aggressive threats and empty compliments, not heartfelt conversations.

He had no idea why Famulus hadn't told him about the kiss, but he had to assume it didn't mean anything good. 

He heard a squeak behind him. He turned around to see a small, mousy servant trying to leave his room. 

"Wait. Come back in here."

The door opened a crack and the girl slipped in. She was shaking and staring up at him with frightened eyes. Her round, white ears were drooping.

"Y-y-yes, m-m-my lord?" she stuttered in a high, pitchy voice. 

He frowned down at her, wondering why she looked so terrified of him. He started to get annoyed. 

"Will you stop shaking?" he said, irritated. This statement only seemed to make her more scared. She began trembling even more and tears welled up in her eyes. His irritation quickly turned to confusion. 

"Wait, no, don't cr—" he started, but tears rolled down her face and she started hiccuping. Titus sighed and pushed his hair away from his face exasperatedly. He wasn't fond of crying and even less fond of watching people cry. But clearly his current approach wasn't working.

The goal was to keep her from having more of a breakdown. One thing he remembered learning from Seraphi was that she would stop tears by distracting the person. He looked around and saw truffles. Maybe splices liked chocolate?

He grabbed the tray from the table by his bed and brought them over to her. "Do you want one?"

Her eyes opened wide as she stared at the platter. "I c-couldn't. Th-th-those are y-yours."

"But I don't eat all of them. Besides, I offered them to you. There's nothing wrong with taking something I offered you." Titus smiled encouragingly. 

Still hiccuping, the girl smiled and grabbed a white chocolate truffle. "Th-thank you, l-lord Titus," she whispered.

Titus felt relieved. She had calmed down. Thank goodness. 

"So, what exactly where you doing in my room?"

The truffle had appeared to improve her mood immensely. Her ears had perked up. "Oh, I was changing your wake-up music," she said, clearly content. "Miss Famulus told me to come into your room only when you're asleep. And normally that's about now." She contemplatively glanced down, then continued, "But now I'm not so sure." She looked up at him. "Should I come earlier?" 

She had talked to him far too casually. In most circles she would be considered disrespectful. Titus should've been upset, but somehow he found her forwardness odd, and somehow almost endearing. She didn't shield her words. There was no forced politeness in anything she said. It was refreshing.

"What time is it?"

"7:30," she replied. Titus chuckled. He was quite sure he hadn't been up this early in thousands of years.

"I don't think I'll normally be waking up this early. You don't have to change your schedule."

"Okay. If you change your mind, let me know." She licked her fingers and looked at the tray. "May I have another one?" 

He stared at her, dumbfounded. He hadn't seen something so unsanitary in his life. He nodded in a daze. She grabbed a red truffle with her filthy hands and then held the tray up to him. 

"Would you like one?" 

He shook his head. Touch anything on that platter? Never again. Who was this girl? Where did these barbaric eating habits come from?

"Where are you from?" he asked.

She was happily devouring her truffle and didn't look at him when she answered. "I'm from Farm 16. I was assigned here three months ago."

That explained nothing. Titus sighed. 

"What's your name?"

"Mary," another voice said from the bedroom door. Both Titus and Mary looked in the direction of the voice. Famulus stood in the doorway, a tan silk dress draping her body and the rising sun casting golden light on her face. She was gazing at Titus. He looked at her and his mind went blank. 

Mary finished off her truffle and bounced up to Famulus. "Good morning, Miss Famulus. I've done my morning assignment. What should I do next?"

Famulus tore her eyes from Titus's and looked down at the tiny mouse splice. "Go tell the cook to make Lord Titus's breakfast. Then check the work log." Mary curtsied and skipped away. Famulus's eyes returned to Titus. "Good morning, my lord," she said as she curtsied to him.

"Good morning," he managed to eek out. They stood there in awkward silence until Titus blurted out the first thing that came to his mind.

"You lied to me."

 


End file.
